Years and Years

A film whose collapsing Britain is rendered through television sets glimpsed in cafés, refugee cages on commuter routes, and the texture of a flat that still has working radiators. The dystopia is upholstered with the unkillable habits of domestic life, the same register in which Davies stages his own apocalypse.

A serialised thriller about a graphic novel predicting humanity's near-future engineered collapse, where ordinary people become the medium through which institutional rot expresses itself. Its synthesis of paranoia, domestic tenderness, and demographic engineering rhymes with Davies's instinct that horror is something one finds at the kitchen table.

Reframes Tezuka's robot mythology as a procedural about an aging detective tracking the casualties of a war that has already poisoned the postwar order. The accumulating dread mirrors the Lyons family's slow comprehension that the structures sheltering them have been hollowed out from within.

A border-haunted song cycle in which migration, displacement, and grandmotherly memory share the same melodic palette as celebration. The album's refusal to separate political emergency from kitchen-radio intimacy parallels Davies's tonal collapsing of news and lullaby.

A wandering naturalist documents the small ecological derangements that visit village after village, where transformation is rarely violent and never reversible. Its patient attention to mutation as something one survives, not defeats, mirrors Davies's portrait of citizens learning to live inside changes they cannot vote away.